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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792554">sun rising</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalgalen/pseuds/Kalgalen'>Kalgalen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Campaign (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Grief/Mourning, spoilers for 56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:34:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792554</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalgalen/pseuds/Kalgalen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in nearly two centuries, Travis feels young.</p><p>Don't get him wrong - it isn't that he usually thinks of himself as old, despite what the grey hair might lead you to believe. But with the weight of the years inevitably comes a certain ennui, some sort of blasé attitude regarding the predictable passage of time, and this - the perspective of a painless sunrise - is anything but.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sun rising</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/intearsaboutrobots/gifts">intearsaboutrobots</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i am not to blame jude said "what if travis cried watching that sunset" and i just ran with it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the first time in nearly two centuries, Travis feels young.</p><p>Don't get him wrong - it isn't that he usually thinks of himself as <em> old</em>, despite what the grey hair might lead you to believe. But with the weight of the years inevitably comes a certain <em> ennui</em>, some sort of <em> blasé </em> attitude regarding the predictable passage of time, and this - the perspective of a painless sunrise - is anything but.</p><p>He settles on a part of the roof away from his companions. It feels like the right thing to do; this is something he needs to experience alone, far from the big idiot, far from the little boy and, most important, far from the ghost that has promised to help him. This is personal. This is a <em> gift</em>.</p><p>The stars have already disappeared on the horizon, washed away by the first rays of the new day. He awaits eagerly. There's something like excitement in his chest, a childish thrill as the anticipation builds up; he can't remember the last time he's felt such a rush without being in a life-threatening situation.</p><p>It's - nice.</p><p>His heartbeat quickens when the glow of the sun starts peeking over the city skyline, and he subconsciously straightens up, as if he could see more by doing so. But this is a game of patience; the sun moves at its own pace, and Travis can't do much but wait as it rises slowly. Usually, by this point, he is on the ground screaming, bones melting to slime and flesh knitting itself back into his human form, and everything is pain and cracking joints - but not today. The city that was only a couple of hours ago a lively chaos of songs and dances is peaceful, as only a city can be after a night of festivities. Not everything is quiet, of course; Travis can hear life down below, people cleaning up the streets in preparation for a new day of Boginalia, the empty casks of wine being rolled out of the inns and bars to be replaced with fresh ones, hungover folks in search of a solid breakfast to get them back on their feet.</p><p>The streets below are still dark, the rays of the sun still too low to reach them; for now, the aurora belongs to him.</p><p>The seconds tick by; the wind plays with the collar of his coat, and he adjusts it around his neck with his remaining hand. He could blame the shiver that courses through him on the breeze, but he's got no one to put an act on for right now.</p><p>Then: the pink bloom of dawn, seeping into the dark blue sky. The horizon, flaming with bright reds and oranges. The sun's corona, barely visible behind the skyline bur promising light and warmth already. The wind picks up, carding invisible fingers through Travis' hair, and he feels something cold at the corner of his eyes - tears, he realizes belatedly. Is he crying? There's no reason to. The spectacle is breathtaking.</p><p>He takes in a shuddering gasp. The light is still spreading, taking over the grey veil of the night, saturating it with vibrant colors; it is gorgeous. Has it always been that beautiful? A tear rolls down his cheek, then another; it feels like a rope is coiling around his heart and squeezing, <em> squeezing, </em> until something inside of him breaks.</p><p>
  <em> Oh, no. </em>
</p><p>It's all he has the time to think before everything comes crashing down. </p><p>Travis closes around himself  as he starts crying. He didn't think he had any tears left in him. He'd believed they'd all been sucked away by the river along with his lost love; obviously, he'd been mistaken.</p><p>It <em> hurts</em>. In an absurd, metaphysical way, it hurts so much more than the goopening does. It feels like the coyote tearing into his chest, like the snake tightening like a noose around his neck - and he cannot stop sobbing, utterly unable to focus on a thought long enough to make it <em> stop</em>. What is he crying for? Is it for himself, for all the pain he's endured, for all the loneliness he has, intentionally or not, shrouded himself in? Is it for his friends, his companions of misfortune? For Gable, who puts on a brave front but is so desperately lost? For Jonnit, hopeful but terrified? For Dref, ripped from them too soon, fallen before his eyes? Is it for Margaret - and if so, which one is it for? He misses <em> her </em> - he wants the other to be able to help him, and is scared she won't be able to - or that she will, perhaps.</p><p>He tightens his grip around himself a bit more as uncontrollable sobs wrack his body, and finds himself wishing that someone was there to hold him together. It's a treacherous thought, and he hates himself for it - he's only got himself in this world, he's his only constant - apart maybe from Gable, but receiving the pity of the Fallen in this moment would certainly shatter him.</p><p>He's only got himself.</p><p>So he mourns everything he's kept himself from mourning before, and the sun keeps rising, blurry and blazing before his clouded eyes.</p><p>He's started rocking back and forth at some point, and the movement eventually manages to soothe him enough that the tears dry out; he breathes out slowly, centering himself back on the moment. He wipes the tears away with his good hand, makes a face at how disgusting he feels; he will need to get himself together before the others wake up lest he's forced to deal with uncomfortable questions.</p><p>In front of him, the sun has risen. The sky is blue and clear; that might not last, but for the moment the air is peaceful and clean, and Travis hungrily takes lungful after lungful. He feels reborn - though not for the usual reasons. The pain is gone, though not forgotten. He pokes at it like a bruise, decides to deal with it at a later date - not as if doing just that already blew up in his face, right?</p><p>On the other side of the roof, his friends start to stir. Travis runs his hand down his face one last time, and gets up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find me on <a href="https://kalgalen.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> or on <a href="https://twitter.com/kalgalen">twitter</a> (or anywhere else) @ kalgalen!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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